Turnabout Backstory
by mykillermusicaddiction
Summary: I will write the backstory for anyone you want! I started with how Gant and the Judge knew each other. PM me with suggestions for who you want to see next! Chapter 3 is up! Edgeworth after he loses his first case.
1. Camp Gant

I slammed the gavel as a resounding "NOT GUILTY" echoed through the courtroom. Damon Gant was led away, and I couldn't help but wonder how we got here. Together once again in this very room, but for a very different reason. He is not the man I used to know…

I can't help but look back to the summer we first met. I had hair back then. It was thick and sandy blond, but still cropped short. I was strong and athletic, and I wanted nothing more than to be outside, so my parents sent me to summer camp. They kissed me goodbye, and I boarded a bus that was taking me to my summer paradise. I was alone on that bus until it stopped in a small town in southern California. A parade of kids marched into the bus, leaving the seat next to me still empty. The bus was about to leave when a tall boy in an orange t shirt came sprinting around the block, waving his arms and yelling. When he finally caught up to the bus, he was panting and searching the bus for an empty seat. The one he found was the one next to me.

"Hey Blondie, can I sit here?" I nodded, shocked by the immediate nickname I was given. I looked him up and down again, shock of black hair, green eyes, more tan than the surfers in Venice beach.

"I'm Gant... Damon Gant."

"I'm.."

"It doesn't matter, I'm still gonna call you blondie."

"Uh...Okay…um" I wasn't sure what to say.

"Is this your first year going to camp?"

"Yeah, my parents wanted me to get out of our small town and live a little."

"Wow, that's a high expectation...You should just try to have a good time."

"Have you been to camp before?"

"Every year since I was seven. I like to swim, and there isn't a pool or anything in my town, so my dad sent me. Later I found out that he was really sending me away so he could desert my mom without me knowing. He ran off with this woman, I think her name was Wanda, or Wendy, or something...Anyway, I had no idea, and I came home and it was only my mom in the house. I was furious. I never wanted to do anything ever again. But the next summer came around, and I went back to camp. It was more of a home to me than anywhere else."

I wasn't really sure how to follow that up, so I sat in silence. The bus sped down the road and then turned onto a dirt road surrounded by a pathway of trees. As we bumped across the rocks, tree branches seemed to reach across to replace the golden sunlight with jade green beams. The road wound down into a clearing, and I saw one of the most beautiful places I have even seen. The green grass waved in the breeze and rippled like the ocean. Kayakers took their bright boats down a clear stream that lead down to a pond. Platform tents dotted the treeline, and groups of hikers marched up and down the dusty trails. In the center was a lodge with tall colorful flags waving over it. Counselors in dark blue t shirts came towards the bus with large wagons, ready to help us load our stuff into our summer home.

Gant and I bunked together that entire summer. We laughed and made fires and hiked, but most importantly, we swam. There was a small pool near the edge of the property, but the lake was so much better. The water was cool and clear, and there was a raft in the center with a lifeguard chair and towels on it. That never made much sense to me because who needs a towel in the middle of the lake, but I never questioned it otherwise. It was a great summer, and I never forgot it.

A few years later, we were both old enough to be counselors. That meant life guard and safety training, first aid and fire building. We were ready, although Gant joked around almost the entire time. Most of the summer was uneventful, but that was about to change.

"Hey, wanna go swimming."

"Gant, it's 4 AM, nobody wants to do that!"

"Come ON!" He dragged me off of the top bunk, and my blanket fell to the ground. He was already in his red lifeguard swim trunks and carrying a fluffy white towel.

"God Gant, you're gonna wake up the whole camp."

"Shut up and get dressed Blondie."

"No, it's against camp rules! We could get fired! Do you really want that? Does NEVER COMING BACK sound good to you?" He chuckled uneasily.

"Most of the other lifeguards are already there…" Ulp, that wasn't helpful to my case. I didn't want to be a downer. _What could possibly happen? _I grabbed my trunks out of my bag and pulled on a white t shirt. I followed him through the lodge and out to the lake. It shimmered in the dark, and other lifeguards were already there, their bodies streaking through the water. Some people were resting on the raft.

"Hey, we should try jumping off the raft!" Gant was already perched near the side, and smoothly dove into the lake. I could tell he was trying to impress the new girl by the way that he only jumped off when she was looking. More boys were on the raft, doing even more impressive dives than him. Attention was turned away from him. He was getting annoyed. So he dove off of the lifeguard chair and into the water. The next kid followed him. After a long string of kids jumped off, the girl decided to give it a try. She leapt off the precarious chair, and hurtled through the air.

CRACK.

I jumped off the side and pulled her out of the water. He head rolled over to the side, and blood was soaking the white towels that covered the raft.

"Somebody! Get help! Hurry!" I whipped my head around and everyone was suddenly gone. Except for Gant. He was on his knees sobbing.

"Gant, you have to go get help! Now!"

"I caused this...this was my idea…"  
>"We don't have time for this! GO!" He was shaking furiously. "Oh, never mind, just stay here and try to keep her alive!" I jumped off and swam as fast as my arms and legs would take me. I ran into the lodge and told everyone, and called 911. There wasn't much else I could do, considering we were at a camp in the middle of nowhere. My heart was leaping out of my chest and I was soaked head to toe in water. I ran back towards the lake, this time taking a boat so we could try to move her to shore.<p>

Gant was sitting on the raft cradling the girl in her arms. He was apologizing to her and crying, two things I had never seen him do.

"This was all my fault-swimming was all my idea-I'm so sorry-I shouldn't have-And now you're bleeding in my arms-I was only trying to impress you-I'm so sorry-Jumping was a stupid idea-Keep breathing-Please."

"Let's put her in the raft, Gant. Let's get her to shore okay?" Her breathing was getting shallower and shallower, and the towel wrapped around her head was becoming more and more soaked. We lifted her into the canoe, and we rowed to the shore as fast as we could. By then the police and the ambulance were there, and they rushed over to try and take care of her. We found out later that it was too late for her. When the police came over to take our statements, Gant disappeared.

Camp still continued, but Gant never set foot near that lake again. He tried to block the incident out of his mind. Any mention of it brought him close to tears. The next year, I went to camp alone.

Gant wrote to me. But I never saw him again until I was a judge. He came into the courtroom. By then I was bald, with little hair left.

"I guess I can't call you blondie anymore can I."

"No. You shouldn't. I go by _Your Honor_ now…"

"Thats too serious. How about Udgey?"

"No…"

"I'm still calling you that anyway." I couldn't stop him. He was now a brilliant detective, and a good friend. I knew he would never be the same after that summer. He was colder, and more calculating, like thoughts about that morning were still circulating through his head.

He asked me to go swimming with him once. He never swam. He just sat and looked at the people swimming, and at the cool water splashing as people jumped off of the diving boards.

He is no longer that man.


	2. An Interview

After getting out of the shower and drying off, I ran over to my closet. I caught the time out of the corner of my eye. Seeing that I spent 10 extra minutes in the shower sent me into a frenzy. I had an interview today! Good first impressions are not made from being late. I ran back into my bathroom with my dress halfway zipped up and my scarf thrown over my shoulder. I dried my hair as fast as possible while I shoved my feet into my shoes. I grabbed my toast out of the toaster as I sprinted out to my car.

And then the rain started. Great. The freezing water washed away all of the fallen leaves and turned the warm autumn day to a dull grey tableau. I just kept driving, I had to focus and get to the office on time. When I got to a red light, I searched the inside of the car. There was no umbrella. Way to be underprepared Mia. It was pouring harder now. As I pulled up to Grossberg Law Offices, I spotted the visitor parking area. The only open space was at least 100 yards away from the building. There was nothing I can do to stay dry. I clutched my jacket around me as it fluttered in the wind, not doing much to protect me or my clothes. I started running, but the water damage has already been done. My bangs glued themselves to my forehead, dripping cold drops down my face and chest. My coat flung water off with every step, and my shoes were filling with water.

When I flung open the door and walked into the elevator, I caught glimpses of my reflection. It was not pretty. At least I was on time. In the privacy of the elevator, I wrung out my hair and poured the water out of my shoes. I tried to wipe all of the water off of my legs and face, but there wasn't much else I could do.

Ding! The elevator opened. I walked towards the front desk, where a small woman was hammering at her keyboard. The room was large, with several desks with different people scribbling in notebooks or looking at files. The whole place smelled of ink and coffee.

I cleared my throat timidly.

"Excuse me, um, I'm Mia Fey. I'm here for the interview." The small woman looked up from her computer and pushed up her glasses.

"All the way past the desks to that room in the the back." She pointed a thin finger towards a door with chairs around it. "Mr Grossberg will come out when he's ready for you."

"Thanks." I picked up my coat and briefcase and moved towards the chairs. As I passed the desks, the coffee smell grew stronger, especially around the one with the dark haired man sitting behind it. He looked up and our eyes met for a second, his dark brown eyes burning into mine. After a second, I looked away and kept walking towards the chairs. I heard him get up. I held my briefcase tighter and kept walking. By the time I made it to the door, he was standing beside me, holding a mug of coffee.

"Hey Kitten, first day?" I jumped a little bit, not expecting anyone to talk to me.

"No, I'm here for an interview…" I sat down and dropped my coat and briefcase beside me.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine. Would you like some coffee?" He held out the mug with his strong tan hand. I took it from him and smiled. I was a bit confused as to why he is talking to me, a random woman here for an interview, but I played along anyway. It's not the first time a stranger has come up to me...

"I'm Diego Armando. I've been here for a few years and..." He kept talking, in a deep and slow voice, as rich as the coffee he had just handed me. I had to focus on the interview and what was ahead. Still, talking with him calmed me down. Even though I was wet and cold, he made the room warm.

The phone at his desk rang.

"Sorry, Kitten, I have to take this. Good luck with the interview." He left me there with the mug of coffee. Moments later, Mr Grossberg came out of his office.

"Mia Fey?" I shook his hand and gave him my most convincing smile. I followed him into his office.

The interview went well, despite my drenched clothes.

"I look forward to working with you Miss Fey."

"As do I, Mr Grossberg." I walk out of the office and towards the elevator. Mr Armando grins as I flash him a smile. I put the mug back on his desk.

"See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow."


	3. Phone Calls

The phone rang in the middle of the night. I didn't even need to look at the caller ID to know what was coming, or who was about to wreak havoc on my eardrums. I groaned and swept the covers off of my bed, dragging the blankets with me through the cold apartment. The last thing I wanted was to be disturbed while wallowing in yesterday's shame. The phone kept ringing, mechanical bells tolling the seconds until I finally picked it up. I knew what was coming. I knew that the call would not end well. I knew that the shame I felt in my gut would spread through my entire body through the course of this call. But Manfred Von Karma would never stop until I picked up the damned phone.

I lost my first case yesterday. To Phoenix Wright. Although nothing could be worse than when Terry Fawles killed himself on the stand early in my career, this came very close. The ideals of perfection had been breached, and I am no longer the perfect prosecutor. Being beat by Phoenix Wright was even more difficult, because, as I wouldn't care to admit, I was glad to see him. He was more than I ever thought he would be. Throwing curveballs, bluffing and making arguments that I couldn't refute was too much for me in the end. Too much for me, Perfect Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth. Now just Prosecutor Edgeworth. Miles Edgeworth.

The phone continued to hammer into my ears, each ring louder than the one before. I dreaded this call, but I knew that someday this day would come. I tentatively picked up the receiver, cleared my throat, and brought it up to my ear.

"Hello?" The silence said everything. For a split second I heard him draw a breath in, and for a moment, I was glad I didn't have to hear this face to face.

"Edgeworth. I know about the trial." The ice in his voice froze my feet to the already cold wooden floor, and my grip tightened around the receiver.

"I want you to be certain that this never happens again, do you understand? Especially not to an idiotic rookie like Wright." Manfred was seething with anger, I could tell, but the silent disappointment was even worse than hearing him yell.

"You have disgraced the Von Karma name..." He started breathing heavily, and his words became louder. I clenched my jaw, suppressing the urge to speak out against him.

"...You have never been one of us, do you understand? To be a Von Karma is to exude perfection and to never, ever fail. And you have failed." The phone was slammed down on the other end, and a lonesome beep rang out. I hung up, and sat on the couch, attempting to calm myself down.

I walked into the kitchen, the spotless appliances reflecting back at me. I needed tea, badly. I turned on the stove, crimson flames spouting out of the burner. Every so often, a flicker of ice blue would intermingle itself among the red, reminding me of the cold hard eyes of Manfred Von Karma. He was everywhere, watching me, knowing all of my faults. I poured the water into the teapot and listened to it whistle and boil away as I rooted through the pantry. I picked a calming tea, fragrant with the smell of chamomile. It was not my usual choice, but it was necessary if I ever wanted to sleep again. I poured the water into a sturdy black mug, letting the white hot steam wash over my face.

Did I do the right thing? What is better, the truth or the victory? And what about Wright? I didn't think I would ever see him again in my entire life. He was my best friend, my only true friend. What did he think of me? Was he happy to see me? Could we ever be that way again? What if he wants more? What if I want more? That last sentiment threw me off. I couldn't stop myself. I downed the rest of my tea in a large gulp and marched back into my bedroom, as stoic and calm as possible, even though there was nobody else to see me. I picked the sheets up off of the floor and bundled them around me, attempting to create a barrier between me and that stupid phone. I fell asleep, but the nightmares came, as they always did: The Elevator, The Scream, The Gun, The Shots.

After fitfully sleeping for an hour, the phone rang again. I groaned, knowing that this call would be equally painful.

"Hello?"

"Miles Edgeworth, you foolish fool! How could you let your record slip? Were you distracted? Or were you just being a foolish fool that foolishly…" The call continued in this fashion, for at least fifteen minutes, with many variations of the words "fool" "foolishly" "foolish" and of course, a massive amount of whipping. I wasn't sure what she was whipping, but the continuous cracking caused the return of my headache.

"Okay, goodnight Franziska." I hung up, and that was the end of that. I went back into my room, and attempted to sleep.

I was dreaming, for once, very peacefully. I was at the courtroom, and I was content with the verdict. The judge was there, showing his approval, for the truth had been revealed. Phoenix and Maya were there too, laughing and looking generally happy. And then he kissed her. And everything broke. Everything spiraled down, feelings of jealousy and hate seething through my dream self. Logic was no more. The nightmares returned, now laced with Franziska's whip and Manfred's bone chilling stare.

I woke up with a start, sweating bullets. I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. I couldn't do it. I just laid in the dark, left with my own thoughts.

Could it have been different?

Who am I?

Who is Miles Edgeworth?


End file.
